Professor Kirkland
by crystalstockings
Summary: Sorry, but forever on hiatus.
1. Prologue

Hetalia created by Hidekaz Himaruya

Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

I do not claim I own these series, if I did I would be filthy rich. The idea of this story though is my own Idea that I am shearing to other fans.

Well I hope you enjoy this story. If you spot a grammar or spelling mistake (bearing in mind I spell the British way) please inform me. Also constructive criticism is welcomed.

---

Grass green eyes blinked in curiosity as they looked around the room. No matter how many times, thousands of times, he came into this room it always amazed him to no end. How it would change from owner to owner. There was always something new in a knock or cranny that could have been there for a millennium and the pervious and/or current owner would of never noticed it.

The room with this current owner was full of warm and vibrant colours that would suit a painting of a sunset or an autumn day. Scattered around the room were obscure objects that where unrecognisable, potions that look like they belonged in a cocktail bar and portraits of previous owners who where pointing a whispering.

In the corner of the room was a phoenix, about the size of a young swan, singing sorrowfully. Its feathers where gracefully long, clean and undamaged in the slightest. It stood proud and meaningful that if it was a human, it could pass itself as part of the royal family and would be excepted without question. It was literally the personification of fire with his ruby red and gleaming gold feathers. It could put a peacock to shame with its dull colours. Such a beautiful bird.

The bird in question stopped singing, realising that it is being spied on and, intern, investigated the culprit. Its coal black orbs staid piercingly back into those grass green eyes. So much that it was hard to look away, no matter how much you would want to.

"Beautiful, is it not Arthur?"

The green eyed man, now reviled as Arthur or England as he would be commonly called as by other countries, jumped slightly, straitening up in his chair, breaking the staring contest.

"Dumbledore."

"Arthur please call me Albus."

"Albus then."

England got up to shake hands with the tall, thin man with spectacular robes, with a silver beard and hair was so long that it could be tucked into his belt. behind his half-moon spectacles where baby blue eyes that despite being alive and smiling that ten year old smile, they where full of wisdom and knowledge.

England Also could not help but notice the hand he was shaking. It look shrived and blackend, as if there has been burnt. Not very nice to touch, but he ignored it and shock it as if it is normal. While it was odd, England did not look or dwell on it for long, nor was he going to ask. It was rude and there was a place and time to ask questions like that. So he just ignord it.

As they both sat back down in there respected seats (England; the chair he originally sat in. Dumbledore; the grand chair behind his desk) England could not help the great respect he felt for the man. And despite the fact the England was older, much older, then Dumbledore (though it defiantly did not show through looks), he felt that he could ask any question and Dumbledore would answer it in a heart beat, no hesitation at all.

"lemon drop?"

England politely declines as Dumbledore popped one in his mouth.

"Now Arthur, you do know the reason why you came here, yes? Well I managed to convince professor Binns to, ah, how should I put it? Find the true meaning of life? Maybe death would be more appropriate?"

A slight chuckle was exchanged between them. "Well as now you see there is a vacant spot in dire need of a teacher and, well, how do you like the sound of professor Kirkland?"

England's mind flitters back to the letter that he had received two weeks ago and had read over and over again, trying to come to a final decision.

"Now I understand that you have been trying to distance your self from the wizarding worl-"

"I never said I was going to decline." England smiled. "And I do like the sound of professor Kirkland. But I must be able to leave the castle when there is a world meeting, there would be roughly five during school weeks, and I also wish to be able to teach what ever subjects I want."

"Yes I understand Arthur since world meetings are important and I am sure you do not want to teach subjects that are to emotional for you."

Arthur nodded slightly.

"Also Arthur, I am sorry I did not state this in the letter but do you mind teaching first years to seventh years? The government said it is now a required subject."

"Of course not."

"Great then! I am glad that you came hear to stay this year, since with time getting danger's Hogwarts is one of the safest places around."

Both of there faces darkened slightly.

"Well do mind signing these papers?"

There was scratching of quills on paper and a chair scraping on the floor slightly as England got up from his seat.

"Well I must be going, see you September then Dumbledore?"

"Yes, see you the first of September."

There were tapes of polished shoes against wood and a click of an oak door closing.


	2. Body Oder and Stupid Men

Hetalia created by Hidekaz Himaruya

Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

I just want to thank you for all the love you have gave me, it was deeply appreciated. I really did not think I would get such a positive response! So again thank you.

Also I have edited the prologue since it was full of face palming grammar and spelling (that I have hopefully sorted out). I have also added an little, tiny, ity-bitty detail that I should of put in.

---

Hermione, a almost woman with brown, bushy hair and hazel eyes, huffed as she lost sight of Ginny. And the others by the looks of things. All around her where witches and wizards, pushing and shoving, swarming to an the intriguing objects created by the Weasley twins. How where they able to create such an amazing pieces of magic, that could put a teacher (of course not from Hogwarts) to shame, when they could hardly get 6 O.W.L.s between them was beyond her.

Scrunching up her nose in determination, inhaling the body odes and an odd exotic incense, she pushed and shoved her way through the crowd of sardines to an more spacious and breathable place. Followed by a chorus of 'pardon me' and 'excuses me', she did not want to come off as completely rude after all.

Reaching her destination of a more spacious place, were she could look for the others without being in everyone's way, she looked at the shelf she was next to. It was full of tacky, useless, touristy items that where not as marvels as the other things in this shop, so no wonder why there was no one here to investigate them.

Turning back round to the large crowd she went on her tip toes (thanks to her small stature) trying to pin-point the flaming red hair of the Weasleys. But even there hair, as bold as a poppy in the middle of a muddy field, blended into the background of this shop with its bright oranges and reds. Frowning and growling slightly she turned back to the shelf.

"They can look for me themselves." She muttered, picking up an Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Snow Globe to pass the time and to fill her curiosity. As she shock it a small firework display filled the globe, creating a gold glitter that gently fell around the miniature shop, that was an exact replica of the one she is in. She gasped in aw, feeling like an five year old child, transfixed at it. She shock it again, again and again. Beautiful.

"Never seen a wizarding snow globe before?"

Jumping slightly, almost dropping the snow globe, she put it back down onto the shelf in its original place. Pink dusted her cheeks for being caught acting like a child, as she turned to the one that had spoke to her.

He was a young man, about twenty-two to twenty-four, with messy blond hair, grass green eyes and pale skin with a couple of light freckles. Despite being a man, he was short and was, in all truth, quite handsome/cute depending the way you look at it. But one of his more predominate features is his eyebrows. They where neat but they where enormous. It was quite hard not to look at them.

He looked at her quizzically, waiting for an answer.

"Um, no. In all truth I have not been in the wizarding world long enough for things like this not to amaze me." She flushed, feeling even more stupid.

"I see. So are you buying things for school? Obviously not hear of course."

"Yes we are. We're nearly finished, just need to get the new History books that where on the list."

"I see. So you are from Hogwarts then?" He picked up a snow globe.

"Yes, sixth year actually," Her brows furrowed slightly. "How did you know I'm from Hogwarts?"

He looked at her in a way that told her he was not going to answer. She hated people who avoided questions.

The man shock the snow globe just as how she did moments ago. The glitter was blue instead of gold. His eyes looked intensively at the globe, studying it. Putting it down he glanced around the shop only for his vision to land back onto Herminie again.

"Quite a spectacular shop, is it not? Not my cup of tea since people should be working or doing something constructive instead of pulling practical jokes, but still spectacular." Hermione could note help but note the sound of pride in the mans voice.

"I have to agree with you there. An interesting shop but I can think of better things to do then pull jokes." She hummed "I actually know the twins that now the shop."

"Oh really?" He looked at her in interest.

"Yes I do. As a matter of fact I'm with some of there family and two friends to do our school shopping."

He hummed. Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable with the silence that loomed over them. Taking a breath, she decided that it was her turn to ask the questions.

"So who are you travelling with? Since it is unsafe to travel on your own at times like this."

"No one. I can look after myself." His expression did not change. If anything it was more serious.

"B-but what if the Death Eaters get you! You will die! L-let alone survive!" She almost shouted, flabbergast. She looked at him with wide eyes and a gapping mouth. What was he, stupid?!

"Don't worry. I don't die that easy." As he said this he nodded to her, saying good bye. Turning his heel he walked into the wall of people.

Hermione stood there, dumbstruck. All respect for the man shattered form a simple sentence. Funny how that can happen. Hermione shook her head to clear herself from the shock and to look for the man. But it was fruitless. The sea of people where still there, clustered around different objects, chattering. She stood on her tip-toes, just as she did when she looked for a Weasley, but as with the Weasleys it was hopeless. She has lost him.

She bit her lip, hoping that he would be O.K. she shook her head once again. She should go back to the task she originally had, which was friend hunting. Joy.

Her head snapped left as she heard her name being shouted for. Straightening up to see who it was she spotted Ginny waving at her, surrounded by the twins and small fluffy creatures that came in different shades of pinks and purples. They looked quite cute.

Glade that she has been found, she braced herself for tackling the swarms of people, stronger body Oder and rude remarks that she is going to get to get there.


	3. Quite Curious Indeed

Hetalia created by Hidekaz Himaruya

Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

I just want to say I have a beta reader: **ShiroKitsume**!So go, go and worship her! THIS INSTANNCE!

---

Hermione lay on her side, curled up. Her mind was filled with the event with Draco in Borgin and Burkes that happened about a week ago. Was Harry correct in accusing Draco of being a Death Eater? While it did seem to add up slightly, it was surely a bold statement to make. A very bold and dangerous statement indeed. And besides, Draco was far too young. She turned over to her left in her makeshift bed, trying to get more comfortable. She blinked, too deep in thought to sleep.

The clang of the clock indicated that it was one-o'-clock in the morning.

Turning her pillow over and plumping it up, in hope that the coolness and fluffiness would drift her off to sleep, her mind wandered to the man she had met on the same day of the Draco incident. A subject she had confided to Ron and Harry, only for them to pass him off as some crazy (he was not!) old (definitely not!) man. And that was that.

But now that she was thinking of him, worry filled her mind. Was he alright? Was he just joking? Was he really just crazy? The more these questions filled her head, the more she panicked for the stranger. Hermione closed her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Time to think logically.

If the man did die it would be all over the newspapers, warning people of the dangers of being by oneself. Also if he was just joking, that was not a nice joke to make considering the amount of worry that had filled her head. It also - during the small time she met him - did not seem like him to joke like that. He also did not seem crazy. Maybe he was a powerful wizard who knew that he could ward off a couple of Death Eaters? Which would relate to his "I don't die that easy" statement. But if he thought he could ward off You-Know-Who, then he was stupid and crazy. If he was not, and had an encounter with some Death Eaters, maybe he got lucky? Since, as she had thought before, if he had died it would be all over the newspapers. Maybe he did not have any encounters with a Death Eater.

Hermione sighed and rolled over to her right again.

But there was another thing that was bothering her about the man. Well… she did not know how to explain it, but he left of this kind of …aura? Energy, maybe? Her mind flashed to when she told this to Ron and Harry; how they'd laughed at her (how flustered and angry she got) made her blush all over again.

But, really, it was odd. Though it did relate to that powerful wizard theory. Not only that, but she also felt great respect for this man, a bit like how she felt with Dumbledore. He also had that wise look to him, as if he had been to heaven, to hell, then back up to earth again. Quite curious indeed.

The clock clanged again. Half past.

Rolling to the left, she calmed her mind, instead thinking of sleep that was now seeping in. Closing her eyes, she listed to the lullaby of Ginny's breath, hooting owls and the creaking of the house, not once thinking of either of the incidents as sleep took over completely.

***

England strolled through the streets of Diagon Alley in the early hours of the morning, as if he was walking by a lake for a picnic instead of through a ghost town.

There use to be shop owners opening their shops for their customers that would be arriving, greeting each other, smiling. Trinkets in the shop windows, catching the early morning sunlight. Owls hooting as they delivered letters to whomever they may concern. Men and woman going to do their jobs for the day, whether that may be working for the ministry or getting inspiration for their new book. And there was always the hustle and bustle of the day on the horizon.

But instead it was shop owners coming out of their comfort zones to open their shop warily (at least, the ones that had not closed down). The windows were covered in Ministry posters, saying how they could protect themselves and their family. People, or at least the few of them that were out, were clustered together as a group, constantly looking over their shoulders and staying in the shadows. There had only been one owl so far.

It had changed so must since he had last been here. Which was about fourteen years ago.

England stood out like a sore thumb being on his own, even though he was staying in the shadows. It did not bother him too much, but it did alarm passer-bys. In times like this it was not normal for a man to walk on his own, strolling without a worry in the world (how very wrong they were). Now that England thought about it, he could be suspected as a Death Eater. This thought amused him so.

Glancing at his watch he noted that he really should be going. Looking up at the shop he was going to visit again since it was not that busy, he realised that there was no time. He could go and see it another time. If it was still there.

Turning a heel he walked back down the cobbled street to the Leaky Cauldron. He swore it was so quiet that he could hear his echoes.

As he entered the quiet pub/inn, so unlike how it was fourteen years ago, Tom gave England his belongings (trunk and case), which he had asked Tom to look after.

"That'll be sixteen Galleons and four Sickles." As Tom said this he constantly looked over to the entrance. Whether he was looking out for a customer or a Death Eater, England did not know.

England gave the man the correct amount of money and an extra three Galleons on top. Not only was it polite but the man looked like he needed it.

"Thanks. 'Ope you 'ave a nice journey." Tom muttered gratefully before going round the bar, presumably to put the money away.

England grabbed the handle of the trunk (it worked like a suitcase), picked up his case, and said a quick cheerio to Tom before he headed to the exit of The Leaky Cauldron.

Outside was a black taxi with a woman sitting in it, flicking though a magazine. He walked up to it, asking if it was for him; it turned out it was (the woman had a very strong Birmingham accent, causing his own to trigger).

He put his trunk into the boot then went into the passenger seat of the car. The song Viva la Vida by Coldplay started to play. He groaned to himself, so that the woman would not hear him. He loved that song as much as he hated it. While it did bring back memories of the Golden Days, it brought the good and the bad, the bad usually overpowering the good. He sighed, trying to tune it out.

Once they reached King's Cross Station (after listening to adverts, Cheryl Cole's Fight for This Love, Lady Gaga's Poker Face and the advert Go Compare [that everyone in England knew off by heart]), England gave the woman the price she demanded plus the extra pound that he had on him. Well, what was the point of having a pound at Hogwarts?

Getting his trunk and case, England marched towards his next destination: Platform Nine-and-Three Quarters.

He walked through the busy crowd, avoiding and side-stepping. There were thick accents, children crying and screaming, trains coming and going - late, I might add. But England ignored this, walking towards the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Without a moment's hesitation or a blink of an eye, England walked though the barrier, leaving the Muggle world.

On the other side was a magnificent bright red train, reminding him of the early twentieth century, and parents saying goodbye to their little, and not so little, children. All around you, you could hear goodbyes and "Stay safe!", mothers, and some fathers, kissing and hugging their children goodbye, and giving a squeeze for luck.

England made his way to the last carriage of the train, where he put his trunk into the luggage compartment. Boarding the train with his case, England's mind flitted once again to the letter Dumbledore gave him. Moving his way though the carriage, he spotted a compartment with a sign on it. On closer inspection it read:

_Reserved_

_for_

_Arthur Kirkland_

_Smiling slightly England moved towards it. Letting himself into the compartment, then shutting the door, England finally relaxed as he plonked himself down on the velvet seat. England stretched and yawned._

_No more then five minutes later, there were shouts of final goodbyes as the train moved forward, whistling. The lush green countryside soon rolled into view._

_Well, it looked like Professor Kirkland was coming to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland._


	4. Apple Pie

Hetalia created by Hidekaz Himaruya

Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

Before you kill me say I am late, I was not since I did not set a deadline /shot

Anyway the reason why this chapter is so late is because I had a little bit of authors block. I just did not know what to write, because of this I am displeased with this chapter.

And as one smart person had pointed out, Poker Face and Viva la Vida were not out in the nineties (which is the time Harry Potter was set). Well… Can we pretend that they where? Please?

Another pointed out that 14 years is not that long considering how long England has been around. Well that would be explained in a future chapter.

Also send some cookies to my lovely Beta Reader, **ShiroKitsume!**

Apple Pie

The Great Hall was full of mouth-watering smells, the chatter and laughter of all ages and dazzling architecture. Above the students and professors was the night sky; slightly cloudy, but the stars managed to peek through, twinkling shyly. Nervous yet bold first years were peeking around the door, looking out of curiosity, only to be hushed back by Professor McGonagall, a tall, thin bit her lip as she tried to pinpoint Harry from the crowds of students. She licked her top lip.

"Oh, I do hope he is okay." Hermione muttered, glancing round once again. Seriously, she felt all she had done was look for people.

"Who?" said Ron Weasley, a tall boy with a long nose, freckles and, like the rest of his family, fiery red hair.

"Harry, you idiot! Where have you been this whole time?"

"Bloody 'ell, no need to snap at me!" Ron yelped, jumping up in his seat slightly.

"I'm just worried, that's all." huffed Hermione, stretching to look for Harry.

Ron's stomach growled.

"I'm hun-"

"Say that one more time, I will jinx your mouth so that you won't get any dinner. Or breakfast for that matter."

Ron shut up abruptly, guessing Hermione was on her period.

But soon, Ron's hunger would come to a halt as Dumbledore, magnificent as ever, stood up. He did not even had to raise a finger as silence fell upon the students immediately, so that you could hear a pin drop. He smiled and nodded to Professor McGonagall.

The professor briskly walked across the Great Hall with her dark robes billowing behind her. It was quite a surprise that her slightly crooked, pointed hat did not fly off. Halfway across she turned round and told the nervous first years to 'come along now' in, what should have been a kind voice. This caused a lot of them to jog instead of power walking.

As Professor McGonagall came to a lone, three legged stool, she put an old, battered hat, which had seen better days, on top of it. As she did, she took a step back away from it.

Seconds passed and the first years started to mutter and fidget, unsure of what was going on. Some looked round with big, innocent eyes, scared of what was going on. Others smirked, and tilted their heads up, knowing what would happen since older siblings had told them - or at least that's what they said; who knew if they were telling the truth.

But soon the restlessness of the first years ceased as a slit in the hat opened and he started to sing a poem. A poem about the tables (Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw) reuniting for justice and peace against the evil that was looming over them. It marvelled everyone in the room, despite its dark message.

As soon as the poem ended, and the round of applause after it, Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name, sit on the stool and the sorting hat will be placed on your head. The sorting hat will then tell you the house you will be designated to and you will sit on that table." Professor McGonagall said to the first years in a stern, loud, clear voice.

Not giving time for this to sink in, she announced the first name.

"Abby Abstill!"

The girl squawked in shock and she hurried over to the stool. Before the hat hit her head it announced in a loud, booming voice 'Ravenclaw'. The table cheered as she scrambled over to them, smiling with relief.

Hermione also smiled, remembering how she felt, wondering whether the sorting hat would even give her a house. Now she couldn't help but laugh at the idea; anyone who was invited to Hogwarts would be put into a house. Getting lost into these memories, she blocked out the sounds around her.

"Gryffindor!"

Hermione awoke with a start from her daydream as her table erupted with a roar as the first new Gryffindor of the year came running down, almost tripping up. Hermione clapped along with the rest of the table, trying to keep up.

Soon they finally got into the Ws, three more letters to go before they could all chatter and eat instead of sitting and clapping. As another Slytherin was called out she glanced across the Professors' table before she started to pick at her nails, humming.

She stopped.

In what seemed like slow motion, she looked back up to the Professors' table and almost fainted in shock.

There, looking perfectly healthy, was the man she had met in the Weasley twins' shop and had been fretting over for the last couple of weeks. Eyebrows and all. Clapping along with the rest of the Professors.

Hermione quickly turned to Ron and kicked his shin.

Ron yelped as the rest of the table exploded with clapping once more.

"What was that for?"

Hermione just ignored the question and nodded to the Professors' table.

"You know that man I met at your brothers' shop?"

"No?"

Hermione sighed in irritation and kicked Ron once again.

"OW!"

"Yes you do. The man I told you about and my theories about him that you _laughed _at."

Ron went silent and frowned in deep concentration, before his face light up like a light bulb in realisation.

"Oh yes. Oh god 'Mione that was so funny!" He laughed.

Hermione kicked him once again, Ron whimpered once again and the Hufflepuffs cheered, once again.

Hermione stuck her nose in the air smugly at her small victory before nodding over to the Professors' table.

"See that new teacher over there, the one with large eyebrows, blond hair and slightly on the small side?"

"Yeah?"

"Well that was the man I was telling you about." She suddenly smiled in glee. "Oh! I knew he was a powerful wizard! My gut feeling was right all along and all you did was laugh at me, tut tut." She grinned at Ron while clapping enthusiastically with the rest of the Gryffindors as the last person turned out to be one of them. Ron just wore an expression that said 'well that's nice' as he also clapped along with them.

As soon as the clapping started it, stopped as Dumbledore stood, just as magnificent as he was moments ago. He smiled and his eyes twinkled.

"Tuck in."

As soon as he said those words, chatter filled the air and cheers erupted as the delicious food filled the golden plates.

Ron wasted no time grabbing the lamb, potatoes and Yorkshire pudding. His mouth was literally drooling.

Hermione sighed, getting a feeling that she would not be getting much conversation out of Ron.

Across the Great Hall sat England, eating peacefully as he looked over the students below him with a calm expression across his face.

"So, what do you think Hogwarts is like then?"

Looking to the right of him he saw Pomona Sprout. A small, dumpy witch with grey hair and a patched, frayed hat. She was a kind, motherly type of lady. But whether she was like that with her students he would never know.

To answer her question he glanced around the room, looking from the deep, brown oak tables to the colourful banners above them. Each of those banners had stitched patterns of their respective houses on them. It would have taken years for a Muggle to hand stitch that.

"It's quite… a spectacular place." He muttered, staring in awe. It was hard to believe that his (and Scotland's) people had done this. All on their own (well okay, the magic did help).

Pomona chuckled. "This place never stops taking my breath away, even though I've practically lived here for years now."

England hummed in agreement as he put his knife and fork down on the plate, to show that he was finished. Very soon other students and professors began to put their knives and forks down, but the chatter certainly did not die down.

As England observed his students, out of the corner of his eye he saw a boy - well, nearing a man now - walking across the Great Hall at such pace that it was obvious that he did not want to be seen. The boy had messy jet black hair and bespectacled eyes, and was that blood on his nose?

Turning round he asked Professor Sprout "Who is that boy, the one crossing the Great Hall?"

Professor Sprout turned to look at him before searching for the one he meant. When she saw who it was her eyes lit up immediately.

"Ah, that is Harry Potter, you know, the boy who lived!" She said happily as the boy sat down on the Gryffindor table, chatting to a redheaded boy and a bushy-haired girl (who looked eerily familiar).

"Ah, I see, thank you."

Harry Potter, the boy who lived. The boy who was a national hero. The boy who saved England - the country and personification. England could not help but smile slightly; Harry Potter saved him yet he had never met him, nor had he got a thank you from England himself.

As England thought this, a sweet smell filled the air as dessert replaced the main course.

Unable to resist the temptation, and forgetting any thoughts he had, England reached over to get a slice of hot apple pie. Oh, how he loved apple pie, its crunchy yet soft in the middle pastry, slowly cooked apples, cool ice cream melting around it and sugar to top it off made it one of England's top desserts, or foods for that matter. It made him drool thinking about it (not that he would admit it, of course).

Taking a bite out of it, using a spoon, he swore he had just died and gone to heaven.

But of course all good things had to come to an end, including apple pie; he would have whined for more if he was not a gentleman, no matter what other countries would say.

As England was pouting inside his head, while looking perfectly gentlemanly on the outside, Dumbledore stood up, creating perfect silence. Smiling, he spread out his arms as if he was about to give everyone in the Great Hall an enormous hug, all at once.

"The very best of evenings to you!" He announced to the Great Hall, smiling broadly.

Instead of smiles and laughs to greet him back, he got a collective amount of gasps and whispers as his blackened, rotting, dying right hand was revealed for all to see. He quickly covered it with the sleeve of his purple and gold robe, commenting that there was nothing to worry about, and continued smiling as if nothing had happened.

"Now, to our new students, welcome; to our old students, welcome back!"

Dumbledore then started a lecture on not going into the forbidden forest, not walking around school past curfew and how dangerous it was in these dark times. England could not help but completely agree with what he was saying, hoping that the students would also agree.

"Now before we move onto our new teachers I would like to say a word about history." England started to pay closer attention to what Dumbledore was saying, feeling it was in his best interest to listen.

"The Ministry have made it a required subject. And next year potions will also be a required subject and the year after that, Transfiguration will become a required subject." England could not help but be amused with the collective groans around the Great Hall.

"Also," Dumbledore continued. "Professor Binns will not be teaching History this year,"; slight cheering was heard around the room. "Instead it will be taught, slightly differently, by Professor Kirkland."

England knew this was his cue to stand up, and as he did he smiled slightly and waved at that familiar girl who was waving at him with what looked like a relieved smile. Sitting back down England continued to listen to what Dumbledore was saying.

"I am also pleased to welcome Professor Slughorn," Slughorn was a short man, whose bald head lit up in the candle light. He smiled and waved to the crowd, while his giant stomach, almost bursting his waistcoat, sat on the table. "A former colleague of mine who will be resuming his last post, Potions master."

Gasps and whispers and many murmurs of 'Potions' and 'Professor Snape' were filling the Great Hall as they heard the news.

Dumbledore continued. "And Professor Snape will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts."

The gasps, whispers and murmurs intensified along with a loud shout of 'NO!' filled the Great Hall even more. England could not help but raise an eyebrow. What rude children.


	5. Never Lie to a Fairy

First of all, I am really, really, really sorry! Times one thousand! I have been busy a couple of weeks after the last chapter was posted and after that I just did not find the motivation (I am a lazy arse), so I am super sorry! Plus it is a boring chapter, so again sorry!

Since I can't use Google mail (which is how I sent the chapters to my beta reader) and that she seemed to have changed her name on here, I have a different beta reader, who has kindly looked for my grammar and spelling mistakes despite the fact that she is not keen crossovers; **Darking Light 666 **

Hetalia created by Hidekaz Himaruya

Harry Potter created by J.K. Rowling

The trees did not sway, creak nor moan for the night was still. Animal, mythical or not, stayed still, scenting something sinister in the air. Even for the Forbidden Forest. The only noise heard was the Owls hooting with a warning as Spiders hide within the cracks, Unicorns fled for their lives and Centaurs studied the stars with a frown sculptured upon there faces.

In the centre of this eerie night, Shadows slithered into a circle, knowing exactly where to stand. Not a single hiss trembled out of the poisons lips of these frightening creatures. Their masked faces, hidden from the outer world, looked up at there leader, a fleshed out skeleton, with pure awe, devotion and fear. It was as if they were looking at there creator. This grey, powerful, inhuman skeleton was the body of lord Voldemort.

All that can be seen was his lower face. His nose was only two slits and his mouth was set in a thin line, as thin as thread. The rest of his bony body , with the exception of his hands, where covered up with a thick black cloak like the rest of the shadows - or should I say - Death Eaters.

Silence hung in the air as the Death Eaters waited to understand why they there being called for so suddenly. They did not breath, in fear of being killed. Despite them being impatient, they did not show it by fidgeting, muttering and definitely not asking their great Lord to hurry up! Instead they continued looking forwards like the good pawns they where. Slowly, their lord raised a finger pointing to one of them. A rasped voice, oozing with power, followed it.

"Smith, tell them what you told me earlier today."

One of the cloaked figures stepped out of the circle and bowed to its Lord, respectively. "Of course, my Lord." She said, her gender only clear because of her feminine voice and the slight lump under her cloak due to her breasts.

"I was monitoring those _muggles_ as a Taxi Driver earlier today. It was my first costumer of the day, Arthur Kirkland, who wanted to be picked up outside the Leaky Caldron." It was common knowledge to wizards and witches that the Leaky Caldron was the only way to reach Diagon Ally via the streets of London and was only used by the Wizening community. The Death Eaters quickly put the two together and guessed that the man Smith was talking about was one of them, a wizard. It was no surprise, nor an amazing discovery.

"I was driving him to Kings Ash Station. Now, as you all know, our Dark Lord gave us all a ring for our thumbs which will give us a small electric shock as soon as we came in contact with our _precious_ country, yes? And continue to let of a warm feeling as long as he was around? Well, both of these things happened as soon as I meet Arthur Kirkland." Death Eaters looked towards there Leader to see his reaction despite the fact he, as he implied himself, has already heard it. If it was not for the slight tug on the right side of his lips he could have been mistaken for a statue.

"He also had a travelling trunk with him," Smith continued. "That a muggle would never be caught dead with and he wanted to arrive at the station five minuets before the Hogwarts Express left the station!"

Glances were made but not a single murmur feel from their mouths , all understanding what Smith was implying. Whether they agreed with it or not was not discussed. Instead they waited for there Lord to come to a decision. The tug on the right side of there Lords lip became more predominant and cruel as he spoke, only uttering this:

"Tell Snape to see if this is true, and if so our country is going to have a _ball_ of a time."

The forest echoed with a lone chuckle.

Slythens and Gryffindors, on either side of the door, waited for their two hour History lesson. Due to it being last lesson Friday, the class was unsurprisingly lacking energy. There had been talk in the Great Hall, that his classes where as boring and as dull as professor Binns (though, not to the point where you would fall asleep.)

Harry, Ron and Hermione were three of the last students waiting for Professor Kirkland to let them in the class room to have there first lesson with him. Ron and Hermione where bickering about one thing or another while Harry stood, given up trying to break their small argument knowing that it will end as quickly as it has started (or at least he hoped so). Looking at the tower clock which was visible from where he stood he took note that they have been standing there for five minuets already. How long did it take to prepare for a lesson? Huffing, he glanced to the left, spotting Malfoy. The mere sight of him did not improve his mood, if anything, it made it worse. All he wanted to do right now was to do something more interesting then wasting his time waiting for a teacher, like beating Malfoy in Quidditch!

Before he can huff again, the door swung open, revelling Professor Kirkland with a serious 'Teacher' expression plastered on his face.

"Sorry for the wait, I misplaced the lesson plan. Please come in and take a set." Professor Kirkland nodded to the students as he held open the door for them till the last of them walk through the door.

As the class settled in there seats, Slytherins on the left, Gryffindors on the right, there was a cough at the front desk, calling for the children's attention.

"For today's lesson we will be simple understanding what we are going to do this year. We will also write down the Aims that I want you to achieve and the expectations of behaviour, work and homework. We will then finish this lesson of with a simple test about the upcoming topics. Any questions?"

The only question he got was moans as he mentioned "test". Smiling slightly, he studied the class, looking at each and every face individually, already getting to grips with there personalities and remembering their faces.

"Okay then, I will write this years lesson plan, which you will copy down on a piece of parchment. You may talk if you wish, but keep it quiet."

Once he said that the silence grew to normal talking level, faster that one can hear. England rolled his eyes and turned to the black bored, writing in curved handwriting. He wrote The following things;

_Autumn Term :_

_- Pirates and Privateers - Spanish Armada _

_Winter Term:_

_- Civil War_

_Spring Term:_

_-The War of the Roses _

_- The Tudor Family_

_Summer Term_

_- Witchcraft Trials in Early Modern Europe _

_-Revision for your essays _

_Essays - You will choose two out of the three Questions given. You will have three hours to complete both Essays._

England chuckled slightly as there was a chorus of whines behind him as he wrote the word essay on the black board. Steeping back from the bored he checked over it to make sure that there was no mistake, before smirking to himself. He loved the year groups where he had so much freedom to choose what topic to do. He smirked just that little more as he read over Spanish Armada.

Wiping the smirk of his face he turned to the class and watched as the class seem to bow their heads in unison, quickly writing down what was on the board.

The lesson was soon over (much to the classes relief, a lecture on behaviour and work and homework and this and that was tiresome after having heard the speech all week, the same speech that the teachers gave the students every year.) Hermione glanced at the last question on the test, chewing her lip in frustration. She managed to answer the other twenty-four questions with relevant ease, most of it was about what she has read in books and what she had learnt in primary school . The answer was at the tip of her tongue P-p-p the second of Spain. Giving up slightly Hermione peeked at her Professor in interest.

He walked around the quiet classroom, with the only noise being the scratch of quilts and the Professors shoes taping on the stone floor, his thick eyebrows furrowed together like they where for the whole lesson. Glancing between him and the last question, it occurred to her that she could feel that…. Power? Radiating of him, like when she meet him in the Weasly's Twins joke shop. Glancing quickly down at her test, she concentrate harder as he walked past her, but still no… something! She groaned slightly in frustration, at the test and not knowing why she couldn't feel that aura thing she had felt last time. It was defiantly there when she first meet him, no questioning it, but for some reason she can not feel it not.

Sighing she tuned back to the question. She frowned did not disappear, there couldn't be that many European names common in Spain beginning with P, right? She furrowed her eyebrows together, P-p-p-

"You may bring your test to the front desk, please remember to put your names at the top of the sheets. Also, return standing behind your desks before you leave." Professor Kirkland announced to the class. As soon as he said that, noise exploded from the class and the clock tower. He sighed before writing the homework on the board, another chorus of whines and mourns from the class. He chuckled, waiting for the class to be silent, standing behind there desks.

"The homework for this week is to research well known pirates, both muggle and wizard. You must also write a paragraph on the difference between pirates and privateers. You are dismissed."

The class quickly exited the class room, mentioning a quick goodbye. One girl, he was sure he had seen before, smiled and waved at him before exiting with what seemed to be her two friends.

England frowned and rubbed his chin gently. Now where has he seen her before? Shrugging he turned to rub out the black board before seeing his black board rubber suspended in midair, with a tiny light at the top of it. The little light noticed him looking, dropping the rubber in shock, the little light zoomed in between a couple of books.

England sighed. "So, where you the one hiding my lesson plan?" He waited, trying to keep his patience intact. The little light shyly peaked out in between the two books, nodding shyly.

England sighed once more. Fairies, why were they so troublesome? They were always getting into trouble with there childish curiosity. A small smile graced his lips. He slowly walked over to the book case, holding his hand out in a relaxed position. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, but you already know that, don't you, poppet?" The little creature gave him a perplexed look, before flying onto his hand, his little hands on his hips, frowning at the Nation, in an almost telling of stance.

England chuckled a little bit more, as those eyebrows unfurrowed themselves. "Okay, I am sorry but that was still a quarter of the truth, my really name is England, but that is our little secret." He lifted his right hand and held his index finger over his mouth, making a shushing noise. The little light look at him sternly, wagging it finger at him. England was about to apologise again when the little fairy flittered up quicker then a blink of an eye and tapped his nose. England jumped and snapped up with alert as the fairy kept tapping every part of his face. He laughed slightly, the little fairy was not yet strong enough to use its power behind its "slaps". A shrill of annoyance came from its mouth, as it flittered in front of his face, a small pout on his face.

"Guess you are not strong enough yet, hm?" England let a small grin form at his face before he once again yelped, this time as the little fairy poked his ribcage, a little devious grin on his petite face.

England wiggled and stumbled slightly, causing him to fall on the floor.

"I am sorry, I am really, really sorry, I promise not to lie to you again!" He snickered, a childish grin had formed on his face.

The little fairy propped himself on England knee, with an air of pride and superiority surrounding him.

"Even though it was true," England muttered under his breath, out of the little fairy's hearing range.

The little Fairy, realising something, turned to point to the window looking at England intently. England looked back and forth from the window and the fairy, realisation dawning on him.

"Is that why you were being a nuisance? You wanted my attention to open the window for you?" The little fairy nodded. Sighing England held out his palm for the fairy to stand one. He gently petted the mop of blue hair on its head as he headed towards the window. Opening it, the fairy immediately whizzed outside. A sad little smile unconsciously fell on England's lips as he looked outside. Well, it was rare for a fairy to stay in one place. As he closed the window a shot of light busted in between the cracks, crashing into the pile of test papers.

That grin quickly formed again.

Poppy blinked outside Arthur's classroom door, as she heard him…talk to himself? Frowning she continued walking down the door, thinking about when it would be the most convenient time to talk to him.


End file.
